


she's not a woman

by Samyiswriting



Series: Samy's Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Consent, Draco Malfoy in Lingerie, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Implied Switching, Kinktober, Lingerie, M/M, Main Kink: Lingerie, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Draco Malfoy, Praise Kink, Top Harry Potter, playing with gender expression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26927644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samyiswriting/pseuds/Samyiswriting
Summary: "Would you –" Harry tried again, breathlessly. "Would you wear knickers for me?"Draco stared at Harry speechlessly for a few seconds until he repeated "knickers?" in a dumbstruck voice.Harry felt unbearable heat flare up at the back of his neck and wondered for a moment if the timing wasn't a little inappropriate. But now it was too late anyway. "Underwear... for women?" he explained hesitantly."I’m familiar with the term 'knickers', I’m just –" Draco faltered, greasy hands hovered uncertainly over his plate. "– Surprised. I’m merely expressing my surprise."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Samy's Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964752
Comments: 8
Kudos: 299





	she's not a woman

**Author's Note:**

> You won't believe it, but I've actually managed to write a few Kinktober stories! 
> 
> Let's start slow and easy with some good old Lingerie Kink.
> 
> The beauty that inspired this: https://lovechildboudoir.com/collections/luxury-lingerie-bdsm-bondage-inspired-burlesque/products/pleasure-principle-pre-order-lace-leg-garter-briefs
> 
> The other beauty that also inspired this: https://twitter.com/ShunsukeRyugu/status/1298317152051576832?s=20 
> 
> A HUGE thank you to Larni for proofreading this ♡
> 
> Deutsche Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930053

There was nothing missing in Harry's life, or at least he thought so.

Sure, he was approaching his thirties, which some would call " _almost-old_ " but he was happier than ever before in his life. He had everything he had never even dared to dream of: A small cosy house, a husband who loved him more than anything, friends who would die for him but didn't really have to because the world was different now, and peace that had finally come into his life.

As peaceful a life with Draco Malfoy as his husband could be.

It had been a typical Monday at the Ministry. Harry had spent his day poking his nose into paperwork that didn't interest him in the slightest, had been lectured by Hermione about his continued refusal to train the trainees of the Aurors Recruitment Programme (he just knew, that the newbies would only gawk at him) and then, for some inexplicable reason (he had fallen asleep at his desk over the particularly boring Bastedo file), he had unintentionally worked overtime, which made him arrive at his sweet home a full two hours late.

Exhausted and out of mood, Harry only longed for a bubble bath, a warm meal and one of those massages that only Draco's divine Healer hands were able to give. When he heard cackling laughter from the bedroom, he sensed that real life was about to thwart his plans. Alongside Draco's laughter, which he had recognised among hundreds, there was also Pansy's.

Draco spent most Mondays meeting his best friend. Quite as if Draco wasn't a Healer but a hairdresser who used Mondays for pointless leisure activities. They usually went to a café or sauntered through the streets of London, only rarely did they not go out. Harry didn't mind, although it might have bothered him a little at that moment, because, as much as he liked to show hospitality, all he wanted on that Monday was his peace and quiet.

Nevertheless, because he was a man of manners, he knocked gently on the bedroom door until he realised that he was in his own home and that knocking was at best ridiculous and pushed the door handle down without waiting for an invitation. The image that presented itself to him made him forget all the stress of everyday life and washed away his tiredness and moodiness in seconds.

Inside the spacious room, more precisely in front of the gigantic chestnut-wood wardrobe, Draco turned in front of a head-high mirror, with nothing but a black, snug-fitting turtleneck jumper and an equally black, clearly too short pleated skirt on his body. Harry's jaw dropped, it took him five more seconds before he even noticed Pansy, who had made herself comfortable on one of the cream-coloured armchairs, giggling and encouraging Draco to spin again for her.

Some sort of synapse blew in Harry's brain. He couldn't even explain why, but the mere sight of Draco in a _skirt_ that covered his bottom lightly and flowingly, ending just below it, turned his knees into jelly. So it was no surprise that it took Harry a further twenty seconds to get his jaw under control and only managed to clear his throat with all his might.

"Oh Harry, get over here! You must help me to rate Draco's outfits," Pansy exclaimed joyfully, as soon as she noticed him and tapped on the armrests of the chair next to her.

Harry didn't move, continued to stare at Draco, who had turned his body towards him but was still looking at himself in the mirror. "Should I ask or –"

"Pansy thinks she can convince me of Muggle clothing," Draco explained, turning his head towards Harry and giving him a dazzling smile. "And she thinks I don't notice her slipping me women's clothing."

Pansy protested, Harry might have laughed if he hadn't lost control of his body and Draco took a few steps towards his husband to press a kiss on his cheek. "Welcome home, love. Your dinner is in the oven and I'll run your bath in a minute, all right?"

Harry nodded slightly, Draco apparently knew his Mondays too well. Then he glanced down on Draco, whispered a "suits you" in his ear and in the following night he fucked him into Nirvana like he hadn't in a long time.

That could have been it, an adventurous night and everything could have gone back to normal. But it didn't. The image of Draco in a skimpy miniskirt wouldn’t leave Harry's memory, haunting him like a sugar-sweet ghost and awakened an insatiable thirst for something he couldn't exactly specify.

Draco had looked _hot_ , but not only that. Also elegant, graceful, ravishingly beautiful and _feminine_. Harry couldn't help but feel drawn to this femininity, to such an extent that it disturbed him at first. When he first dreamt of Draco in scanty lingerie in the night from Monday to Tuesday and woke up with a rock-hard morning erection, he spent the whole of the following day wondering what kind of malfunction his brain had suffered that a _skirt_ could cause such a reaction in him.

But the images didn't disappear even when he was awake, they just became more detailed, more revealing, and _more bloody_ stimulating. So every passing second Harry became more and more comfortable with the idea that Draco in lingerie was a hellishly erotic fantasy and dreamily revelled in his sparked imagination. Until, at dinner on Friday of the same week, he realised that he had a mouth, a voice and a wonderful husband. In fact, he only noticed it because they were eating spareribs and the oil made Draco's lips glisten rosy and look truly delicious. Essentially, it didn't matter what made him open his mouth. The result remained a clumsy stumble over his tongue.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, making a noticeable effort not to laugh, and grabbed another sparerib.

"Would you –" Harry tried again, breathlessly. "Would you wear knickers for me?"

Draco stared at Harry speechlessly for a few seconds until he repeated "knickers?" in a dumbstruck voice.

Harry felt unbearable heat flare up at the back of his neck and wondered for a moment if the timing wasn't a little inappropriate. But now it was too late anyway. "Underwear... for women?" he explained hesitantly.

"I’m familiar with the term _'knickers'_ , I’m just –" Draco faltered, greasy hands hovered uncertainly over his plate. "– Surprised. I’m merely expressing my surprise."

Oh. If Harry read Draco's expression correctly, the blond wasn't exactly thrilled by the request. No, it was more like he seemed unable to form a clear thought. Harry felt the need to bang his head against the tabletop. Of course, Draco wasn't hooked, it was crazy and came out of nowhere

Draco cleared his throat, wiping his hands clean on a napkin. "So you want –"

"Forget it, it was a stupid idea," Harry hectically stepped in, feeling sufficiently put off by Draco's reaction alone.

"But –", Draco tried again, frowning in confusion.

"Just a stupid thought, let's not talk about it any further," Harry begged insistently, the situation became increasingly awkward for him from second to second.

"Harry, I –"

" _Draco_. Please?"

Draco pressed his lips shut, his cheeks covered with red patches, as always when something upset him. Harry returned the gaze unyieldingly, even if it took all the effort he could muster. It worked. Draco kept his lips carefully sealed for the rest of the evening.

~

Harry hadn't married Draco because of his taciturnity and permissiveness. Therefore, he was little surprised when his husband sat down next to Harry on the petrol-coloured couch the next afternoon, crossed his legs, reached for the TV remote control, switched off the device and looked at Harry expectantly. For a few seconds, he was impressed that Draco could operate the television at all, but then he was reminded why Draco was looking at him with such expectancy.

"Draco, I really don't want to –" he began grumbling but was interrupted by Draco, who raised a hand to silence him.

"We will talk about this, Harry James Potter, even if I have to force every word out of your confounded mouth!"

Harry swallowed, that was to be expected and yet he had fervently hoped that Draco would make an exception this one time and drop the subject. It was _Draco_ , of course, it wasn't the case. So Harry sighed theatrically, preparing himself inwardly to die of embarrassment and responded to Draco's unyielding gaze as challenging as he could. "Fine. Then talk."

Draco raised one eyebrow, folded his hands, placing them neatly on his thigh, let his gaze wander to his fingers, and then began to speak thoughtfully tested. "First, I want you to know that you can be honest with me at all times. If you felt... judged yesterday, then –"

"Draco –"

"No, let me finish," Draco instantly silenced Harry. "Now, if you felt judged, I want you to know that that wasn't my intention. I was merely... taken by surprise, and I would suggest that, in order to avoid such a reaction in the future, you share such suggestions with me at more convenient times.”

"Okay." It was the only thing that Harry could come up with. He was too busy staring wide-eyed at Draco because he couldn't believe what was going on. Whatever it was, it warmed his heart and although his neck was still hotter than the rest of his body, he felt much more relaxed. "I'll do my best?”

Draco seemed satisfied with the answer as he threw a heart-warming smile at Harry, then reached out for him and Harry felt drawn to a comfortable chest. As if it was pure intuition and wouldn't take any thought at all, the two of them settled down on the couch until Harry was more or less lying on top of Draco, his legs bent and intertwined with Draco's, his arms wrapped around Draco's waist, his head still resting on his chest. Draco let a hand slide into Harry's hair and twirled the dark strands thoughtfully between his fingertips.

"All right. Let's talk about it," he began and Harry was suddenly glad of his position, at least he didn't have to look at Draco while they were talking. "Knickers. May I ask how you came up with that?"

"Do you remember Monday?" Harry asked, relieved that the opening question was a harmless territory.

"You're alluding to the skirt, aren't you? Oh, Merlin, I suppose I should have known. You were... _enthusiastic_ that night to say the least." Harry felt Draco laugh softly in his hair while his neck continued to burn. "A skirt isn't _underwear_ if I might add."

"I know," Harry heard himself respond defiantly. "The skirt suited you, okay? And I think you would look good in knickers too." Holding his breath, Harry waited for an answer.

Draco took a few seconds, then sighed. "Then I guess we'd better put your theory to the test."

Harry yanked his head up, his heart racing, and looked at Draco with big eyes. "Really?"

Draco chuckled but nodded. "Really."

Oh, _damn!_ A grin crept inexorably onto Harry's face; he was even too delighted to be embarrassed. Draco would wear lingerie. _For him_. It was absurd, absolutely absurd and bloody exciting.

"We should talk about expectations and limits," Draco added, tapping a finger broodingly against his lower lip. Harry placed his hand on Draco's chest and chin on top of it to continue looking at Draco. He still had to digest the information he had just received, so he just looked dreamily into Draco's eyes.

"This is about the knickers, am I getting that right? Or is it more than that?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? Do you want to know what kind of underwear I –"

"Oh, please, love. I'm not stupid enough to let you choose my outfit," Draco interrupted him with an amused chuckle. "My question is whether you are only concerned with the clothes or also with female body attributes. We’re _wizards_ , there are possibilities –"

"Oh wow, no, that... no," Harry rushed to say, this was clearly getting out of hand too quickly for his taste. "I don't want you to change your body for me... unless you want to, then –" Harry faltered, shook his head and tried to read in Draco's eyes what _he_ wanted. "Just be _yourself_ , okay?"

Draco nodded slowly, he didn't seem remotely muddled, just interested and curious. "So it's _only_ about the clothes?"

"Well," Harry swayed his head thoughtfully from right to left, his gaze losing focus. "Yes, but also no? It's also about femininity, but about _your_ femininity. I don't want you to pretend, just –" he faltered helplessly.

"To bring out my feminine side?" Draco offered and hit the mark.

Harry nodded. There was still no sign of aversion in Draco's expression. It filled the pit of his stomach with butterflies.

"Is this about control? Is it important for you to have control over the situation or me?" Draco continued unperturbed and Harry's jaw dropped in surprise. He raised his head.

"Uh, no." Admittedly he hadn't considered this yet, but when he thought about his fantasies and dreams, he had never felt the need for control. "No, it's not about control," he said with more emphasis. "I guess, essentially, I just think your feminine side is hot and I'd like to see more of it."

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched in amusement. "That much can be understood. Does that mean you're not interested in activities that fall into the BDSM category?"

Harry blinked at Draco, who returned the look unimpressed. "Not... in this case." He felt the heat rising from the back of his neck into his cheeks. Heavens, he should pull himself together, he was no longer a little schoolboy.

"At least it simplifies setting limits," Draco thought aloud, running his hand through Harry's hair and then stopped with a mischievous grin on his lips. "You want me to be true to myself, do you? Does that mean I have permission to tease you?"

"No," Harry instantly said, Draco just raised an unbelieving eyebrow. Damn it, why did the bastard need to know him so well? Harry groaned quietly and dropped his forehead against Draco's chest where he whispered a barely audible "yes".

Draco laughed softly and contentedly as he again ran his hand through Harry's stubborn hair. "Good, that makes the rest easy."

He had truly married a wonderful bastard.

~

A wonderful bastard who put Harry on the rack without batting an eyelid. Draco never brought up the conversation again, almost pretending it never happened and making it seem as if the subject had simply slipped his mind. It tested Harry's patience like nothing else. The concern that Draco had decided against it after all grew steadily, no matter how irrational it was.

A week went by uneventful. It was Monday again, and Harry had spent the day with petty discussions of forthcoming festivities at which he was obliged to give speeches. He would need to ask Ginny or Hermione to write his speeches. The last one had caused a furore in the media for a full two weeks, and that was only because Draco had written a few lofty words in the speech, the meaning of which Harry hadn't further questioned. Afterwards, he had realised that he had accidentally caused half a revolution for people with "hard-to-tame" hair and as a descendant of Fleamont Potter, the inventor of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion™, his opinion carried arguably more weight than any other. Harry had ignored Draco for twelve hours as punishment, his husband had laughed at him for twelve hours straight.

From that day on, Harry was on some kind of blacklist for speeches. This meant that he had to go through every speech with tens of ministry officials before he was given permission to deliver it. Harry would have preferred not to give any more speeches at all rather than endure this ordeal. He was more exhausted than he had been in a long time. Which was why, instead of greeting Draco, he dropped onto the couch with a tired grumble, as soon as he stumbled through the Floo Network into his home after work. He hadn't even taken off his shoes. Draco would probably make him a head shorter for that, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care, so he laid his head on the soft backrest and closed his eyes. 

He almost fell asleep, he could already feel himself drifting into a dreamless world when he heard something unusual.

 _Click, click, click_. Silence. _Click, click_. Another silence.

"My father once said that manners are the first thing you unlearn in marriage. Looking at you, he didn't seem to be lying."

A quiet smile appeared on Harry's lips and he began to sit up drowsy. "Your father was a terrible man, I won't ever consider his morals –" Harry interrupted himself, staring at Draco wide-eyed, who leaned against the door frame of the living room and watched Harry amused with crossed arms.

It took a few seconds before he realised that it was really Draco standing there in front of him. He looked like _Draco_ , but not. His usually short, blond hair was long, falling loose and silky over his shoulders, ending only at his waist and curling a little at the tips. It shimmered silvery, which was probably the magic that made the hair appear longer and made Draco look like a fairytale princess. The fact that he also wore an ivory-coloured silk dressing gown that reached down to his calves and turned to lace there only completed the image. At his feet, Draco wore the triggers for the sound that had confused Harry. The leather pumps were shiny black, pointed and had a dark red sole.

"You... have long hair," Harry uttered with effort, still staring at Draco, not sure where to look first. He chose Draco's feet. "And high heels."

"I'm impressed. You truly have a remarkable capacity for perception, Mr Potter. You should consider becoming an Auror," Draco replied in a butter-soft voice, wrapping the end of the ribbon, which was tied around his waist, around his fingers.

"I – I'm honestly not capable of giving a witty answer at the moment," Harry admitted truthfully, kept staring at Draco with his mouth half-open, wondering if the blood, which was apparently missing in his brain, had already rushed between his legs. "Draco... Holy shit, you look _incredible!"_

Draco smiled smugly, bit his lower lip and let his gaze wander agonisingly slowly over Harry. "You haven't seen the best yet, so if you'd move into the bedroom..." Draco made a small gesture with his hand towards the corridor. "And undress. If I should find these _shoes_ anywhere _near_ our bed –"

Harry only caught the rest as if through fog, for he leapt up over-eagerly, almost tripping over his own feet as he hurried to their bedroom. He felt as if he was sixteen again, youthful hormones taking over his body. His excitement and anticipation grew with every second.

In the bedroom the light was dimmed, Draco had lit a few scented candles, nothing too fancy, but enough to make Harry's knees weak from devotion. It took him exactly three minutes to undress completely, crawl onto the bed and sit on the edge, not a second later the door opened and Draco entered the room. He was barefoot, wore the high heels with two fingers and closed the door carefully behind him before he put his shoes on the chest of drawers next to the door.

"The shoes are a must for the dramatic entrance, but for my feet they are death." He walked light-footedly towards Harry, came to a stop in front of him, let a hand slide into Harry's curls and licked his lips while he inspected Harry's body with his gaze.

Harry couldn't hide his grin, he was itching to rip Draco's robe off his body, but he was still too smitten to show that much zeal. He reached for Draco's long hair instead, which felt amazingly real. "You want me to kiss it better, honey?"

Draco raised one eyebrow, then spread his legs and straddled Harry's lap. Harry sharply inhaled, there was Draco's naked skin on his thighs, but also _something else_. "Oh baby, if I wanted you to kiss my feet, you'd know. I wouldn't need to _ask_ you!"

"But you’d do it anyway," Harry breathed, his hands moving to Draco's waist, the silk fabric cool under his fingers. "You would want me to want it. Because you pursue a twisted logic!"

Draco snorted, then leaned back a little and proceeded to slowly undo the ribbon of his dressing gown. Harry stared with big eyes at Draco's fingers, which he answered with a satisfied smile. "Maybe I just want to make you happy. Maybe it turns me on to see my husband in ecstasy. And maybe it turns me on to know that my husband craves to see _me_ in ecstasy."

With a fluid movement he pulled the silk ribbon out of its loops, the robe opened and Harry became dizzy at the sight. Draco wouldn't be Draco if he had simply worn pretty knickers. No. _Of course_ , he was wearing something more extravagant. It was a blood-red lace bodycage. From hip to thigh, curved lace wound down over the skin, also over his chest, along Draco's collarbone, to his throat and down his sides across his ribs. The lace patterns were connected by elastic red straps that clung to Draco's thighs, waist and chest. _Holy dragon crap_.

While Draco smoothly let the robe slither from his shoulders, Harry's gaze drifted lower. Underneath the bodycage, Draco wore silky, tone-like knickers, tied only at the sides with narrow ribbons. Harry only had to stretch out his hand, pull on one of the ends of the bows and Draco would be exposed. It was the sweetest of all temptations, Harry felt his cheeks burning and searched speechlessly for Draco's gaze.

"Unbelievable, Draco, you’re unbelievable," Harry breathed completely beside himself, his hands gliding over the lace as if on their own, tracing the embroidered swirls. Red suited Draco, it flattered his lips, his cheeks, his body. "Hell, I love you!"

Draco chuckled amusedly, but then he pulled Harry closer by his hair, made him tilt his head back and licked with relish across his throat up to his ear, where he nibbled gently on his earlobe. "Tell me, love, what makes forty-two added to twenty-seven?"

"Hmm?" Harry closed his eyes, felt how boiling heat took over his body, his hands travelled blindly to Draco's bottom, which was seductively framed by elastic straps, and kneaded the soft muscle. Draco had slid back a little on his thighs and rubbed Harry's already hard cock with little pressure, he moaned softly at Harry's ear, a shiver ran down his spine.

"Forty-two plus twenty-seven, Harry," Draco repeated, his voice purring, slowly kissing along Harry's jawline to his chin.

Harry pushed one hand into long blond hair, reached for the back of Draco's head and caught Draco's lips in a kiss. Mathematical problems weren't something he could worry about at the moment, so he rather used his tongue, twirled it around Draco's, moistened his lips and prevented Draco from thinking.

Draco's grip on his erection became looser, Harry grumbled protestingly. When Draco made no attempt to firm the grip again, he grabbed Draco's bottom and drew him closer to his own body until he felt Draco's hard cock rubbing against his through the silky fabric.

Draco was the purest temptation and he knew that only too well. Still, he had fallen for Harry at least as much as Harry had fallen for him, so he responded to the friction, rhythmically moving his hips to Harry's lap, while casually conquering Harry's lips and mouth. Harry moaned greedily into the kiss, explored the straps and lace once more with his fingertips and made it his business to touch the skin under the straps.

The straps hugged Draco's pale skin, not cutting into it unless Harry pulled on them. When he did that, the strap dipped into soft flesh and each time he let go again and slid his fingers under the strap to massage the tortured area, Draco sighed into the kiss as if there was nothing more soothing. Harry traced the lace, grasped a strap on Draco's thigh, tugged at it and carelessly let it whip back onto Draco's leg.

 _"Harry,_ " Draco gasped, interrupting the kiss as if this had torn him out of his trance. "Forty-two and twenty-seven equals what?"

"Are you _serious_ , Draco?" Harry grumbled, reaching between them and clasped Draco's erection, which was covered in damp silk. "Do you actually think I want to focus on that right now?" He kissed Draco's neck, coaxed whimpering cries from him. "Who cares what forty-two plus twenty-seven –" Realisation hit him and he froze. _"Oh!”_

"That took an embarrassingly long time, darling," Draco smiled and pushed Harry's hands away from his body as he rose from Harry's lap to crawl onto the bed as well.

At the sight of Draco's backside, over which red straps were stretched, he was temporarily struck dumb. He managed to recover when his aching erection began to hurt from excitement and lack of stimulation. "That was a bloody Slytherin way of asking for a change of position, less subtlety does no harm sometimes," he defended himself as he followed Draco onto the bed.

"Ohhh, is the _young man_ demanding more straightforwardness? Why didn't you say so right away, love?" Draco asked purring, turned back to Harry and gave him a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Lie down, if you please. And then, Mr Potter, you have the honour of inserting your tongue into my bottom while I moisten your erect member with my tongue. Only if that's convenient, of course. Is that instruction specific enough for you?"

Harry snorted, shoving a hand behind Draco's neck to kiss his _impossible_ husband, but Draco ducked away just in time, leaving Harry with just a handful of long hair in his fist. With a sigh, Harry let go of the hair, dropped back onto the sheet and reached out to Draco, who knelt beside his feet and tried to tame his unruly hair. "You must come here then, _Mr Malfoy-Potter! I’m_ ready!"

Draco rolled his beautiful grey eyes, let go of his hair and climbed over Harry's body on all fours. Fascinated, Harry lost himself for a moment in the sight of the alluring lingerie, which smoothly adapted to each of Draco's movements. Hell, did Draco have any idea how seductive and delicious he looked? When Draco turned around and presented Harry his pale arse, he decided to show it to him.

But first, he appreciated the light skin in front of his face, which resembled a work of art, framed by red straps. He caressed Draco's thighs, down to his bent knees next to his shoulders and up again, over the elastic bands that stretched a little over the muscle due to Draco's position. Harry's hands found Draco's bottom and set about kneading the muscle – he would never get enough of that. With deft fingers, he spread his cheeks, which had turned rosy under Harry's fingers, and for a moment he blissfully admired the pink hole, a thin red stripe covering it and making the sight all the more appealing. Without a sound, he whispered the well-known spell that would prepare his lover for the following and pushed the silk aside.

Harry felt Draco's warm breath drift over his erection and sighed. Draco's blowjobs were pure heaven, he almost regretted opening his mouth. "Draco, sweetheart, could you sit up for me, please?" At least he could claim that he beat Draco by lengths with _straightforward_ instructions.

Draco hesitated only briefly, then he actually sat up, but he was still kneeling. He glanced over his shoulder at Harry and raised one eyebrow. "You spoil me. But, hold on –" He reached with one hand for the bedside table on which Harry had carelessly laid down his wand and pointed it to the ceiling. Harry blinked in surprise, an unclear image appeared on the ceiling, exactly where Harry's gaze fell. Since the image didn’t come into focus, he frowned. Instead of explaining, Draco took the glasses off his nose and the picture became clear. Something tingly contracted in Harry's stomach, his erection twitched joyfully. A mirror. The ceiling was a mirror that presented Draco to him in his most beautiful glory. "Now we both get something out of it," Draco said with a smile, his head tilted back to look at Harry through the mirror.

As so often, Harry was reminded of why he loved Draco so idolatrously and decided against a verbal answer. Instead, he grabbed Draco by the thighs, at the junction of leg and arse, pulled Draco's body closer and spread the soft cheeks with his thumbs. Harry closed his eyes, licking along the crack to Draco's testicles, but then concentrated on the wrinkled skin at his hole. Draco moaned, under his fingers, Harry could feel Draco tensing his leg muscles and shifting his weight slightly.

His tongue wet the pink skin, saliva pooled in the corners of his mouth and threatened to overflow. Harry opened his eyes, wallowing in the sight of Draco, which he caught in the mirror through long blond hair floating in his field of vision. His eyes blissfully closed, his head thrown back so that the long hair fell silvery over his shoulders and back, his body exposed and at the same time covered with beguiling fabric, he was the most captivating person Harry had ever seen.

To describe Draco as simply appearing feminine would have been too easy. It wasn't wrong, but it wasn't enough either. The lingerie did everything and nothing for him, just like the hair. They accentuated Draco's softness, his gentleness, as well as his fire and passion, doing exactly what Harry had hoped and dreamed of. But it wasn't them who _gave_ him all that, they just enhanced it for the sheer aesthetics. And Harry was bloody grateful that Draco was willing to grant him this aesthetic enrichment.

"Harry," Draco whimpered faintly, his voice bringing Harry back to reality. For a moment he had forgotten himself. A little surprised, he realised that his tongue was now buried deep inside Draco and his chin was damp with his own saliva. In the mirror he could watch Draco massaging his own erection through the silk underwear, the knickers had slipped aside, almost completely exposing Draco's hardness and causing the erection between Harry's legs to burn.

He listened to Draco's moans, felt Draco gently move his hips to meet Harry's tongue, watched Draco's abdominal muscles contract for exactly four more minutes as his fingers stroked his cock, his eyelids fluttered as Harry pushed his tongue deeper into him and his legs slowly but surely lost their tension under Harry's supporting hands. After the four minutes, Harry released his lips from Draco's wonderful arse, his knees had at some point unconsciously bent, his toes buried in the sheet, he felt the impatient pulling in his groin.

Draco propped himself forward on his elbows without being asked, his legs trembled and might have given way if Harry's hands hadn't lingered on his thighs. Harry already opened his mouth to ask Draco to turn around to him when he felt warm breath at waist level and Draco licked once along his entire length, from the tip down to his balls. The moan burst darkly and inexorably out of his throat.

"Hell, Draco. Come on, enough of _this!"_ Harry's skin felt like it was on fire, he finally needed Draco on top of him, on his cock, to be exact. Even if it meant he had to give up Draco's heavenly blowjob one more time.

Draco, fortunately, didn't object, instead, he turned around, his cheeks were red, his hair hung tangled in his face, the lengths shimmered more than in the beginning, the magic became more obvious the more Draco lost control.

"Are we getting impatient?" Draco asked and managed to sound cheeky despite his disoriented state. Harry was unable to answer, because Draco, who was now sitting on his thighs facing him, wrapped both hands around his erection and sighed with delight. "You're so _hard_ , love, do you enjoy this sight that much?"

Harry moaned out of pleasure and a little out of frustration because there really were better moments for a conversation. "Of course I enjoy it, I always enjoy you. Oh fuck –" Harry interrupted himself with a gasp, his attempt to sound challenging thereby failed.

Draco leaned over Harry's upper body, but kept his erection in place with two fingers, greedily kissing him on his wet lips. _"Good boy."_

Harry's protest came immediately, Draco's insubordination was definitely going too far, so he pushed him off in one swift movement, grabbing him by the hips, pushing him backwards against the sheet and pinning him down with his own weight. "You _enjoy_ teasing me," he stated when he noticed Draco's amused expression on his face.

"I'd _never_ deliberately get on your nerves, Mr Pott –" Draco began with a smug grin on his lips. Harry interrupted him with a harsh kiss that contained enough fire to make Draco actually shut up, even as Harry, breathing heavily, broke away.

He let another glance sweep over Draco's delicious body, the silver hair fanned and tangled on the sheet, Draco's lips were swollen and moist, his eyes dark with lust and the silky knickers had completely shifted aside. It provided a view of the pure temptation between Draco's legs. He lifted Draco's hips slightly, angled his legs up against his shoulders and gently kissed Draco's ankles before positioning his erection at Draco's entrance.

Another glance went to the ceiling, the mirror flickering too much to recognise a clear image, Harry looked back into Draco's face, in his expression lay pure hunger and thirst. He shoved his hands into his shimmering hair, clutching it tightly and biting his lip as he noticed Harry's attentive gaze. "Can I still count on your dick inside me today, Mr Potter? Or –"

Harry growled, pressed two rough fingers against Draco's lips, which effectively silenced him, and then concentrated on an unspoken spell with his eyes closed. A slick fluid appeared in his hand, which he instantly spread along his length. Had Draco not been so bloody hot to look at, he would have turned his husband on his stomach, teaching him at least _some_ kind of obedience.

But Draco was too beautiful to just look at the back of his head, so Harry absorbed the image in front of him, didn't miss even the slightest muscle movement and then finally entered Draco with a relieved sigh. He welcomed him without much resistance, was warm, tight and _familiar_ , it gave Harry's skin goosebumps. His breath faltered and he sank his entire length into Draco, who clutched his hair, squeezed his eyes shut and apparently focused all his energy on a calm breath, while he could barely suppress a moan.

Harry remained buried deep inside Draco for a moment, getting used to the feeling and waited for Draco to open his eyes again and give Harry an enchanting smile. Draco's hand moved to Harry's cheek, stroking his chin and jaw. Harry slid a little out of Draco and as he thrust inside again, he bent down to Draco and captured his lips with his own.

The kiss was sluggish and unfocused as Harry's hips sought a steady rhythm and the captivating feeling clouded his perception. Draco moaned uninhibitedly on Harry's lips, further intoxicating his senses, and wrapped both arms around his neck to prevent him from straightening up. Harry was unable to do so anyway, all he could concentrate on were Draco's lips, his warm tightness and the feeling of the lace and straps under his fingers as they skimmed up and down Draco's body.

"Merlin, Draco, you're beautiful," Harry breathed, unable to stop the words. It was the truth, but his mind was too veiled to even comprehend what he had just said.

Draco's tongue licked over Harry's lower lip and he hummed contentedly. "Love, your eyes are closed, you cannot see me."

It was only when Harry opened his eyes that he realised he had actually had his eyes closed. He looked into clear grey, he was so close to Draco, he could make out the black speckles in his iris and count his thick lashes. He didn't need his eyesight to recognise Draco's beauty. "I always see you, baby."

Draco whimpered softly, arched his back to take Harry even deeper and pressed his lips pleadingly against Harry's. No matter how big his mouth was, Draco fell for Harry's compliments like decaying bark. Harry gasped, blindly grabbing Draco's hips and thrusting harder, his rhythm remaining firm but steadily accelerating.

The sound of naked skin slapping against each other, Draco's broken moaning and his soft cursing, coupled with his name, took over Harry's mind. Blood roared in his ears and desire gathered in his centre. Barely mentally present, Harry reached between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Draco's erection, which twitched joyfully under his touch. His loose fist pumped the pulsating cock in the same rhythm as his hips snapped against Draco. 

Draco's teeth dug painfully into Harry's lower lip, warm liquid poured over his fingers and Draco's hips twitched helplessly. The sudden tension caused Draco's body to clench around Harry's cock and made him gasp. It was as if someone had opened the floodgates of a dam, the orgasm burst through Harry like a waterfall, conquering his body all the way down to his toes and making him moan uncontrollably.

With his head buried at the crook of Draco's neck, Harry came to breath again, his body resting on Draco's, in his open hand lay Draco's cock, he still was deeply buried in Draco. He felt Draco's hand slowly running through his dark curls, his fingertips massaging the scalp and Harry had to make an effort not to moan again.

He pulled himself together, closed his fist once around Draco, who twitched under the pressure, protested quietly and cramped his hand in Harry's hair. Harry grinned, loosened the grip and raised his head to look at Draco. The man still seemed a little beside himself but returned the look reproachfully, then grimaced and brushed his thumb over Harry's slightly bleeding lower lip. "I didn't mean to do that, I'm sorry, love."

Harry laughed softly because Draco looked seriously sincere. Draco had just granted him pure happiness and fulfilled one of his dirty dreams. He was insane to think he had to apologise for his own fervour. He stroked the long, blond hair with one hand and watched it flicker under his fingers like a broken light bulb.

Draco followed his gaze and sighed quietly. "Unfortunately, such spells never last very long." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed once more.

When Harry also raised his head, he noticed that the mirror on the ceiling had disappeared. He looked down and Draco's hair was short again. Still tousled, wisps of hair wet with sweat stuck to his cheekbones, but it was back to its usual length. "It looked good on you," Harry murmured and pushed the strands out of Draco's face. "But you always look good anyway."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. "Bootlicker."

Harry hummed approvingly, stuck out his tongue and nudged it against the tip of Draco's nose. "Very, very, veeery happy to lick," he confirmed and placed particularly wet kisses on Draco's cheeks.

The blond whined in protest and tried to duck away under Harry's lips. Because he was pinned in place under Harry's body weight, he pressed one hand on Harry's mouth and only raised one eyebrow when the latter licked his palm. "So can I consider the experiment a success? Was everything to your satisfaction?"

Harry blinked at Draco in surprise. "Was it not obvious? Would you like me to spell out for you that _you_ and _this_ were the hottest things I could have imagined?" Harry asked mumbling to Draco's palm. "Because that _was_ the very hottest thing I could have imagined. I'm more than satisfied because my husband is the most beautiful creature in the universe and –"

"All right, all right," Draco laughed and pressed his palm more firmly against Harry's mouth. "I must admit I wouldn't be averse to a repetition."

"No?" Harry asked breathlessly, his heart racing with joy.

"No," Draco assured with an amused shake of his head. "I'm glad you're satisfied, I really am, because –" He faltered, made an innocent face and looked uncertainly past Harry.

Harry frowned, he knew that expression and suspected the worst. He pushed Draco's hand away from his mouth, which immediately strayed onto Harry's lower back. "Spit it out!"

"Well," Draco began slowly, his fingers ghosting gently over Harry's skin southwards towards his bottom. "It could be that I was looking for the _perfect_ lingerie in London so I could make my _wonderful, beloved_ husband very happy." Draco's fingers moved along the crack, pressing against the entrance with little pressure. Harry's breath stopped, which was the only reason he didn't interrupt Draco. "And in the process, I may have been seen by tabloid photographers."

"Damn it, _Draco_ ," Harry groaned instantly in disbelief, slapping his palm against his forehead. "They're going to _kill_ me at the Ministry. _Hermione_ will murder me with her bare –"

"It wasn't on purpose," Draco interrupted, his finger massaging the sensitive skin at Harry's hole and he had to suppress a moan. "I _tried_ to visit Muggle shops, but Victoria's Secret simply wouldn't offer what I was looking for!"

Harry sighed surrenderingly, his hand closing automatically around Draco's semi-hard cock. "Did you at least manage to find out what Victoria's secret is?"

Draco laughed softly, the sound causing Harry to harden. "She's not a woman," he whispered conspiratorially at Harry's ear, his finger pressing against Harry's entrance with more pressure.

With a moan, Harry immediately tensed up. "Could you maybe wait with that until I'm no longer inside you?" he asked reproachfully as he tried to grab Draco's wrist. The lack of lubricant was also worth mentioning, but Draco kissed Harry's lips lightly and made him forget his complaints.

"Do you not approve of my approach, Mr Potter?" Draco purred, a cool, slippery liquid gathering under his fingertips and he massaged it into the wrinkled skin. "I would strongly advise you to relax, I don't want to cause you any unwanted pain.”

Harry moaned once more, dropped his head into the crook of Draco's neck and surrendered to Draco's caresses. "Merlin... you're going to kill me."

Draco laughed again, loud, clear and intoxicating as he inserted a finger into Harry. "Don't you dare think death will save you from me, Harry James Potter!"

Harry didn't want to be saved at all.


End file.
